


Now, Voyager

by cmk418



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander runs into his devastatingly handsome psychiatrist on a gay cruise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now, Voyager

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Going Places mini-ficathon. AU, with a few canon elements & characters. 
> 
> Somewhat based on and shamelessly stolen from the movie of the same name (written by Casey Robinson from a novel by Olive Higgins Prouty) - by the way, I always thought Charlotte had more chemistry with the doctor than the leading man, so Giles' character is a bit of a combination of the two.

Living with your parents had driven you crazy. Literally. Luckily there was Willow, your best friend since kindergarten who had sprung for your little excursion to Cascade, a “retreat center” (aka sanitarium) about a half-hour’s drive from Sunnydale.

The doctor there, one devastatingly handsome Rupert Giles, said that your problem was mostly an esteem issue.

No shit.

Having parents who told said you were worthless – when they acknowledged you at all – did a number on your self-esteem. Your grades for the most part sucked. You were stuck in dead-end jobs with no income to be able to get out on your own and away from the parents that made your life a living hell.

You didn’t even have a girlfriend. Not that you wanted one. You found that out well enough that one summer before Jesse disappeared – that one Christmas where he spent the night in the backyard with you and the two of you had made out under the stars while your parents laid passed out in the living room.

That was another can of worms that the good doctor had opened. It was weird coming out to someone – hell, you hadn’t even mentioned it to Willow. And she’d been with Tara for four years now.

The ticket that you clutch in your hand makes you think that she’s had some inkling.

The boat is nothing like you expect, at least initially. It’s mostly full of couples – men and more men doing all the things you’d expect to see on a cruise. Drinking, swimming, suntanning – the expanse of naked male flesh makes your mouth water and your dick hard.

You feel eyes on you. You don’t look up, not right away. You’re trying to be smooth – following the instructions that Doctor Giles gave you before you left Cascade.

You freeze when your eyes meet his. _Rupert_ , the name whispered in your mind.

You stiffen (and not in a good way) as the thoughts begin to race through your mind. _Is this a set-up? Another test to see how far I’ve come, to see if I can handle myself on the outside world? It can’t be a coincidence, it can’t. I have to get off this ship. I have-_

The foghorn sounds a mighty blast as the ship begins to move out of port, startling you. Rupert is right there, closer than before, and you can’t handle it. You do the only thing imaginable in these circumstances.

You run. Straight back to your cabin.

After an hour of staring at the same four walls, you realize that the only thing that will beat stubbornness is boredom and two more weeks - hell, two more minutes - of this is not going to work.

At least, it’s a big boat and the chances of the two of you running into each other are…

“Hello, Xander.”

You hate your life.

Before you can stop yourself, you ask the question that’s been on your mind. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“Really.”

“Psychiatrists do take vacations.”

“Vacations, yes. Gay cruises? Not so much. Are you spying on me?”

“Is there anything I could say to convince you that I wasn’t?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“People come to Cascade to take a break. I come here. Here I can be Rupert, not Doctor Giles. Like you, no one knows who I really am or where I come from. I can play the game and meet people and not have to worry about someone asking for free counseling during the course of a conversation. It’s a part of who I am, who I need to be in order to get away. I need you to understand that.”

“So you’re not going to analyze me.”

“Not while I’m on this ship.”

“Fair enough. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“Xander…”

Right. He doesn’t want you around. He’s probably got his eye on someone. You scan the group of guys at the bar, one of whom has been watching your conversation. He gives you a little nod and a smile, which would be okay, except that he’s close to fifty and you’re not looking for a…

…well, maybe you can see how he got that impression. You look up to speak to Rupert again, only to see that he’s walked away and is now chatting up some hot brunette over by the pool.

You shake your head. You’re here to have fun, damn it, and fun will be had.

Four hours later, you begin to think that a new pair of feet will soon be in order. You danced with every man in the club – felt bodies pressed against you in ways that should have been illegal, received a dozen whispered propositions, everything from a walk around the deck to a quickie back in your cabin. None of them were what you wanted.

You glance up, catching the eye of the man who has been watching you this entire time. Your heart pounds, but your legs feel like lead and you can’t will yourself to move until he does.

He takes a step outside the club and you follow, practically barreling into him outside the door.

“Rupert, I…”

“I don’t want to spend this entire voyage feeling as though I have to look after you, but I do. You’re my patient, I have a responsibility to…”

“Fuck responsibility.”

“Pardon?”

“You don’t want anyone to know who or what you are. Fine. But there’s one problem with that. I do.”

“I suppose I could just murder you and throw your body overboard.”

“Oh-kay, I guess you’re learning a little too much from some of your patients.”

“I’m joking.”

“So let’s redefine our relationship. We are no longer basket-case Xander Harris and head-shrinker Rupert Giles. We can be friends.”

“Well, yes, of course.”

“Possibly friends with benefits.”

“That skates a very thin line ethically.”

“We’re redefining here, Rupert. Re-define with me.”

“I don’t…”

You lean in and press your lips to Rupert’s.

You can feel him getting into it, so you are unprepared for the moment that he pushes you away. “Xander, listen to me. If we press this now, there’s only one way it will end. And you are worth much more than a one-night stand.”

You know that it’s supposed to make you feel better, but it doesn’t.

That doesn’t keep you from shadowing him all the way to Brazil. You’re with every tour that he takes, and every time he looks up, you’re there.

“I thought you were on this cruise to have a good time,” he says to you.

“I am,” you say and you both know it’s a lie.

“I’m getting off in Rio.”

You try very hard to reconcile the images of your mind with his talk of business conferences, but you’re stuck on the words “getting off” and if this continues much longer, you’re going to.

“Xander, do grow up.”

The smile falls from your face. “Rupert, it’s our last day together. I have to get back on the ship and sail home. I know you want me to be all self-assured, but in this case I’m not above begging. Please let me spend this last day with you. Just you. No one else.”

Rupert nods and your heart starts beating again.

To say that the Rio trip was weird would be to put it mildly. The driver that Rupert hired to take the two of you on a sunset sightseeing tour goes slightly crazy and suddenly vanishes. If you were still at Cascade you could chalk it up to seeing a vampire.

And now it strikes you funny that over half the people at Cascade were being treated for that exact delusion.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just thinking that I might have to check into Cascade again. That was a vampire, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was. You’re not crazy. Happy?”

“A little disappointed actually.”

“Xander.” The warning tone in his voice is back.

“Where are we?”

“I’m not sure. We passed the church I wanted to see not long ago, but as far as getting back, I suspect we’re lost.”

You try to squelch the panic that’s building inside of you. Years of camping in the backyard have made you capable with putting together a makeshift shelter. So you take a peek through the materials in the trunk and what can be available for you outside and get the project underway.

When it’s done, Rupert looks impressed. “Have you ever considered a career in architecture?”

“I don’t have the math scores for it. Maybe construction though. That might be something. Do you think there may be more vampires?”

“This far from the city, I think we’re safe.”

“Good.”

You don’t talk much more until it’s time for bed. The space is tight, but Rupert is as far from you as possible.

You scoot closer to him, mumbling, “It’s cold.” He doesn’t stop you, just wraps his arms around you loosely.

His back is turned to you the next morning, so you think you must have dreamt the brief touch of his lips on yours.

The two of you make your way back to the city. The boat has departed and you have to make a choice, an immediate trip to the next port – where the ship will be in three days and will max out your credit card with the last minute fees, or waiting the three days and meeting your ship when it arrives. It’s actually pretty much a no-brainer.

Rupert wants to spot you the money to send you on your way. “I’ll be at a conference,” he reasons. “I’ll be busy.”

“I’ll wander the city and play the tourist and be back here before sunset.”

“It was only supposed to be one day,” he says, as though he’s talking to himself. “And now, you’ll be here and I’m going to stand next to you in the elevator and say, ‘Good morning, Mister Harris’ and no one will know that I am desperately in love with you.”

He walks away before you can stop him.

For the next few days, he manages to keep it platonic. You don’t even see him until the last day when he accompanies you to the airport.

“When will you be back?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he replies. He kisses you once before you get out of the cab. “Goodbye, Xander.”

“Goodbye, Doctor Giles.”

Six months later, things are different. You’ve gotten a job in construction to restore the Hyperion in Los Angeles, a nice apartment, and a cat that you’ve named ‘Buffy’. There’s still no live-in boyfriend, but there’s the possibility of one, a lawyer named Lindsey McDonald who you’ve been seeing for three months. It’s good, but it hasn’t swept aside the memory of Rupert Giles.

The grand opening of the Hyperion is a major event. You’re not quite sure you deserve and invitation, but Lindsey managed to get one through his law firm and you’re his “plus one”. You know a lot of the key players in this deal – Miss Chase, Mister Wyndham-Price who is speaking with…

“Rupert.” Lindsey looks at you with some surprise as the name slips from your lips before you can catch it.

“Who?”

“I think I know the man speaking to Wesley.”

“That guy? I doubt it. He’s some head shrinker up north.”

“In Sunnydale.”

“Oh. He’s Rupert.” There’s an inflection on the name, reminding you of that one night when you slipped up and fantasy and reality had an unfortunate collision.

“It’s over,” you say. But your feet are moving toward Rupert even as you speak.

“Hello,” you say.

Wesley is the one that responds. He hides his surprise at seeing you. “Mister Harris, it’s good to see you here. Amazing to see what all that hard work has come to, isn’t it?”

“Place looks good,” you say. You can’t keep your eyes off of Rupert.

Wesley clears his throat. “Forgive me, Xander. This is Doctor Rupert Giles. Doctor Giles, this is Xander Harris.”

“We’ve met,” the two of you say in unison. Wesley looks from you to Rupert and then moves quickly away.

“How are you?” Rupert asks.

“Well. I’m well,” you say. “Still at Cascade?”

“I’ve taken a leave of absence, but it seems…”

“Seems what?”

“Are you happy?”

“As happy as I can be.”

“That’s good,” he says. “Good.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself?”

There’s a hand on his shoulder. Lindsey.

“Excuse me for a moment, Rupert.”

You step outside with Lindsey. He’s been good to you, but it’s obvious he’s not what you want. You give him the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech that’s been used on you more times than you’d like to admit.

It’s probably not the best form to go back inside, but Rupert is there and this opportunity won’t present itself again.

Naturally, he’s not where you left him. It wouldn’t be that easy.

You spy him by the bar, refilling his glass of champagne. You don’t say anything, just steer him by the arm down a hallway away from the main party.

“Do you have a room here?”

He holds out a key card. “Seven twenty-two.”

“Same as the room in Rio.” You smile.

The two of you step into the elevator. He slams you back against the wall as his mouth plunders yours. Too soon, the elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the seventh floor.

You move down the hall, arms wrapped around each other, kissing as you make your way closer to his room.

He pauses outside the door. “You sure?”

“God, yes.”

The television is on as you walk into the room and sit on the edge of the bed. You glance at it long enough to recognize Bette Davis and the non-Bogart guy from ‘Casablanca’ in some 1940s melodrama, which, if you were in your apartment, you’d still be watching.

But here in room seven twenty-two of the Hyperion, you and Rupert are writing your own ending. And you hope it’s a happy one.  



End file.
